


It's 20/20

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Infidelity, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: He pours her a glass of wine, her wine, of which one bottle survived being smashed against the wall, and a vodka neat for him.  He doesn’t hand it to her but places it on the table next to her, wanting to maintain a distance from her – for his own sake.She notices, and doesn’t pick the glass up right away.  “So are you going to tell me what you came for?”  Bruce asks, evenly – hoping that he is, in fact, maintaining a casual temperance.Selina, to her credit, can see his effort and eases up a bit, her voice quieter, losing the teasing edge and her eyes shifting down “I came to see you.”





	It's 20/20

Selina in a black overcoat and boots waits outside of the apartment building, not inside. Inside the concierge peers at her, clearly concerned. When she sees Bruce, who stopped a few feet away, she drops her cigarette and her dark lips part, exhaling smoke. A new habit.  
She waits for him, and he closes the distance between them carefully.

“Didn’t realise you left anything behind.” He says, walking past her to the door. Smoke and perfume. Two new habits. Usually, as a professional thief, she is more careful.  
“Where have you been tonight?” Her voice is teasing, but with an edge – as if she is interested, or even cares. Bruce heads to the elevator with her just behind him, he gives the concierge a reassuring nod before they both slip into the gilded cage going up to their (his now) penthouse. 

She leans against the opposite wall of the elevator and gives him a once over as he tries not to focus on her proximity, or her skin – pale against her curls, which are darker now. “Well. Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for hours.”   
A tinge of jealousy, the Selina he knows, bites through and he can’t help but smile a bit. She doesn’t miss it. “What?” He shakes his head and looks at her, in the eyes, for the first time “Maybe if you tell me you’re coming by, Selina…”  
She looks away as the elevator dings to their (now his) foyer.

She takes off her overcoat and he is surprised to see that she is wearing a dress underneath – black and simple. He doesn’t recognise it, but he realises the purpose of the visit. “What does Barbara want?” he asks, taking her coat and hanging it next to his. 

She walks into the apartment like she doesn’t know it – but nothing has changed since she left. The six clicks of her boots echo quietly. He indicates to the living area – a sprawl of glass and white couches and she sits, never taking her eyes off him. She hasn’t answered him.

She asks, again, “So where were you? Tonight?”   
He gives in and tells the truth “I was at the restaurant.” To which he also adds, before she can ask “With Alfred and Rachel. She just won her first case.”   
She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t have to. He knows the specific sheen of disdain in her green eyes.  
“It’s going well” He finally says, and sits down across from her. “So what does Barbara want?”

A few months ago they had an anniversary, an actual anniversary – their first, in ten years of back and forth – a few months ago she whispered to him as he pushed her down on their bed “I love you”.   
Once they loved each other.

“I didn’t come for the Sirens” she says finally, her eyes moving from his. “Are you going to offer me something to drink, Bruce, or did you lose your manners too?” He smiles even though it stings, because some things will never change, and he heads to the kitchen. 

He pours her a glass of wine, her wine, of which one bottle survived being smashed against the wall, and a vodka neat for him. He doesn’t hand it to her but places it on the table next to her, wanting to maintain a distance from her – for his own sake.  
She notices, and doesn’t pick the glass up right away. “So are you going to tell me what you came for?” Bruce asks, evenly – hoping that he is, in fact, maintaining a casual temperance. 

Selina, to her credit, can see his effort and eases up a bit, her voice quieter, losing the teasing edge and her eyes shifting down “I came to see you.”

Their last conversation was not civil, not by any measure and he doesn’t respond, allowing her to be the first to wade into those murky waters. “So, is it like…worth it to hear me out?”

What she is really asking, is if he is, in fact, now seeing Rachel. It is what she has been asking all night, he realises. And he knows, it is what she was dreading the night she left. So he spares her. “We can talk, Selina.”

With Selina, things are never simple.

“I saw you with her.” her eyes are honest and the vindication is clear beneath the surface. 

Immediately guarded, his mind narrows “You’ve been following her? me?” It makes sense and it is not anything new. They both are possessive people – but imagining Selina walking four steps behind Rachel, Rachel who has never hurt a single person in her life, is disconcerting. “Selina, if you hurt her…”

“No…” Is her answer, and there is defeat there, embarrassment and Bruce, sobered from his defensiveness by the sound of her voice, the hurt there - feels her pain, as always, as a shadow on his own heart. “I just…saw you…together, just by chance. I didn’t come here to…” 

Bruce stills himself and waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t. He threw her off, and footing lost he can see that she is ready to leave. “This was stupid..” she starts and gets up, but he gets up too. “What did you want to talk about, Selina?” he tries, gentler this time – feeling the weight of their shared history pulling him in. With Selina, things are always hard.

“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her voice is quiet and as she turns for the coat stand she shakes her head, to herself, and the Selina-ness of the particular gesture twists hard at Bruce’s heart. “I’m not myself. Sorry.” She offers, dropping the word as if it is meaningless – Selina, who has never, ever apologised for anything – and pulling on her coat. “You said you waited for hours.” He says, plainly. And she glances at him as she ties the thin belt of the coat firmly around her waist and dropping her arms. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter.” And it is the way that she does it, how in that moment she is still the young girl that he fought with as a child and the woman that he loved, still loves, that does him in. With Selina, things are always familiar.  
“Tell me.” He says, fully giving over to her now. Because if she leaves gain, then she leaves with the rest of what she didn’t take before – with what remains of him. 

They are inches apart and all she needs to do, for the current to take him, is to raise herself on the toes of her boots, which she does, and open her mouth to his, which she does.

He didn’t touch his vodka but he feels drunk, lost as he opens her coat and after it falls to the floor, pulls her dress up. The actions are familiar, almost muscle memory – lifting her up against him, pulling her closer – always pulling her closer – and stumbling with her to bed. 

Her curls fan around her face as he moves over her and while it has only been a few months since they were together, the time in between feels like years and his heart beats frantically, painfully with lust, anger, hurt and guilt. “Selina, I can’t do this.” He pulls away from her, disentangling himself from her smell, new perfume, smoke and his Selina. “It won’t be any different...” He breathes out and behind him there is only silence and then a soft rustle as her hand, quiet and familiar – soft as a lie. “I promise it will be different, Bruce. I promise” 

With Selina, there is no world without her, and her lips part as he moves, enters her – enrapt in their connection again, and he hears the words, like a prayer, on her lips “I love you”. It is slower than usual, and he tries to still her, to breathe her in, to make it last forever. But her mouth, the hotness of her breath against his neck, the insistence of her fingers, pulling him closer – always pulling him closer – makes it impossible. 

He falls asleep with his arm draped over the narrow of her waist and he smells her curls, soft against his chin, as they drift off.

Because it is Selina, things are always stolen – tinged with unease. Moments, words, hearts.

When he walks to the kitchen the next morning, gathering up Selina’s discarded dress in the hall, he knows, before he reaches the room, that Rachel is there. He knows that she is staring at the coat on the floor, the wine glass. And a wave of regret crashes against him before he can see the disappointment on her face.

“She’s here?” is all she asks.   
“Rachel, I’m sorry…”

She doesn’t let him finish. She closes the door behind her and Bruce stares at the space where she was, the coat on the floor.

When he hears Selina behind him, feels her quietly pull the dress from between his fingers, the rustle of her slipping it on, he closes his eyes so as not to see the vindication in hers. “Rachel didn’t stay?” 

Her voice is even, a ripple shallow beneath it – something satisfied and broken at once. He turns away from her and doesn’t answer, leaning against the kitchen island, staring at her half-empty glass of wine.

He can see her figure move on the periphery of his vision and she picks up her coat. She waits for him to talk but he doesn’t, he wouldn’t know what to say. With Selina, things are never, ever just what they are.

“I know, right…” she says, her voice, grave and twisted with feign concern. “..that feeling, like your heart is ripped from your chest…” When he looks at her, her eyes are cold, as she zips up her boots, one by one. “Worst feeling in the world.”

With Selina, things are always broken.

Her curls shake loose and soft as she runs her fingers through them, glancing at herself in the mirror as she heads for the foyer. “What’s that saying about hindsight?”

It is six clicks of her boots and the door closes.


End file.
